Pink Grapefruit

[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “Sun Shower“]

It was Friday.  Though I couldn’t wait to be reunited with my little nymphet, Jim and I wouldn’t be getting on the road until early the next morning.  Soon Lola, Lily, and Collin were in the Jeep on their way back to the cottage.  They got back just in time for dinner with Suzanne.  After dinner and some drinks, Lily said to Lo, “I’m feeling tired.  I’m going to bed, but why don’t you join Collin on the deck?”

Suzanne, apparently, had already gone to bed.  Always the accommodating guest, Lola took her friend’s suggestion and found Collin sipping his whiskey as he sat in a double-wide swing outside, overlooking the lake.

Lo joined him on the swing and they made some small talk before he invited her to join him in the bedroom.

“What about Suzanne?” asked Lo.

“We sleep in separate bedrooms,” said Collin.  “She sleeps with Shadow and Bandit,” he said, referring to the dogs.  “It’s been this way for a while.”

Lo followed him through the quiet house to the master bedroom.  It was enormous.  The square footage of that room alone was probably bigger than our living room and kitchen together.  It had a master bath attached in an open plan layout.  Lo said she’d like to wash up before bed.  She dropped her denim shorts, removed her cutoff top and turned on the shower.  She stepped in as Collin watched her.  There was no door on the slate tiled shower.  The water just poured down from a waterfall fountain near the high ceiling.  Lo washed up and then dried off with one of the plush terrycloth towels.

She walked over to the bed where Collin was lying in just his flannel pajama bottoms.  She must have missed the brief moment when he changed.  Sitting on the bed near him, she removed the towel and passed him a bottle of lotion she had found by the sink.

“Moisturize me,” she said.

She was lying on her tum and he began with her shoulders.  His large, strong hands gently rubbed the scented cream into her skin.  She let out a moan.  “That feels soooo good.”

Collin continued down her back and pushed up from her hips toward her shoulders in long, slow strokes.

Finally he worked his way around her bum, grabbing with his fingers and thumbs and spreading her ass cheeks apart so he could get a good look at her special spot in a slight variation from his performance the day before.

“Clean as a whistle,” he remarked, taking note of one of Lo’s most remarkable features.

“I used the pink grapefruit bodywash in the shower.”

Gettin’ a Dirty Girl Clean

“Looks it,” he said.

“Does it taste like grapefruit?” she asked.

He continued his exploration of her anatomy with his palms sliding down her thighs to her calves.  He simply ignored her question.

His hands massaged around her ankles and then her feet.  His thumbs pressed into the arch of her feet and he rubbed in sensual circles, bringing her close to climax.

Pink Grapefruit

Before she had another accident, she turned over and looked at Collin.

“Why don’t you get out of those pjs?” she asked, straining to see if he was hard.

To her great surprise, he agreed and soon he was as naked as she.  But to her greater surprise, he was as flaccid as a well-cooked strand of spaghetti, though almost as long.

“Lo,” he said in a quiet tone, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

Lo’s eyes widened.

“About twenty years ago I was badly injured in a horse riding accident.”

“Oh no,” said Lo, even before hearing the details.  She gave him space to explain.

“I was riding one of my prized stallions and I thought I had trained him a lot better than I did.  He saw a shadow or a branch or something.  Maybe he thought it was a snake.  Maybe it was a snake.  I don’t know.  It was a long time ago and it happened fast.  He reared up and threw me off.”

Lo covered her mouth as she gasped.

“The fall wasn’t that bad, but then he bucked and his rear hoof went right into my back.  I had a serious injury to my thoracic spinal nerve 11, or T-11.  For a long time I was in a wheelchair, which is why this room is on the first floor and is designed to be completely wheelchair accessible.  I had a number of surgeries and eventually, after a lot of physical therapy, I was able to walk again.  But, unfortunately,” he looked down, “I never recovered to full functioning.”

Lo looked at Collin’s lengthy, beautiful cock, longingly.

“Nothing?” she asked a little tactlessly.

“Nothing.  Suzanne and I tried everything.  For years.  Surgeries, pills, pump.  Nothing could get me hard or keep me hard.”

“No orgasm, I guess,” she asked, unable to conceal a tone of disappointment from her voice.

“Not in over twenty years.”

“Desire?”

“So much desire,” he said.

“What can I do for you?” asked Lo, always eager to please.

“Lo, your visit has been a godsend.”

“So you don’t want to finger me or have me suck you off or anything?”

“I actually just enjoy talking to you.”

“Naked?”

“Well, that makes it more interesting.”

“Can I?”

“Can you what?” he asked and then understood.  “Oh, give it the ole college try?”

Lo nodded.

“See for yourself.”

Lo wasted no time.  She got between his legs with her face and finally gave free reign to her pent-up desire.  She licked, lapped, sucked, slurped, teased, touched, kissed, caressed, pressed, pulled, stroked, sloughed, and finally ceased, all to no avail.  Not that it wasn’t fun for her, but it did not bring about her hoped for result.

Spent, she lay back and stroked herself, but, without instilling a similar arousal in her host, she quickly became bored of it.

“You’re a remarkable woman,” said Collin.

His words fell on deaf ears.  Lo couldn’t help but feel let down by her mere humanity.  She had hoped to perform a miracle.  To raise Lazarus, to bring forth a baguette from a lump of dough, to at least fulfill some longed for fantasy.

In the end the two of them just sat together on the bed and they traded fabulous story for more outrageous tale.

Sun Shower

[The mini-series “Mount Bliss” continues from “A Brush with the Little Death.”]

Friday morning and Lo woke up in Lily’s arms, the sheets wet, her hairbrush buried under the covers.

Collin was already up, sitting in the chair next to the bed, drinking his coffee and reading the complimentary paper.

When he saw Lo’s eyes lock with his, a big, broad smile illuminated his face and he winked at her.

Lo carefully extricated herself from Lily’s arm draped over her breasts.  She snuck into the bathroom quietly, so as not to wake the angelic Lily.

She took a shower and while she was in there, suddenly, startling her, out of the fog entered Lily.

“Don’t worry, Lo,” she said, “I just thought we could be quicker this way.”  Lily got in the shower with Lo and the two of them soaped each other up.

“Sorry about last night,” said Lo.

Lily just snickered a bit before saying, “It was hot.”

“And wet,” added Lo, also laughing now.

“So wet!”

Lo was simultaneously embarrassed and proud of her accomplishment.

“Do you think Collin heard,” Lo asked.

“So what if he did,” replied Lily.

They rinsed off and dried each other off before entering the main room to get dressed.  Collin remained in the chair and watched them, bemused.

“Hungry girls?” he asked, ambiguously.

“So hungry,” said Lo, pulling her pink panties up.

“Mmmmm,” moaned Lily, putting on her bra.  “I can’t wait for breakfast!”

The trio went down to the restaurant and ordered up a storm.  While they were sitting there, Lo spotted her admirer from the previous day sitting at a table with his wife.  They waived at her.  She waived back.

“We’ll probably see him again at the pool today,” remarked Collin to the girls.

“What time is check-out?” asked Lily.

“One,” answered Collin.

From breakfast, they went right to the pool area.  There was no need to stop back up at the room because they could just remove their shorts, tops, panties, and bras for a quick dip.  That’s exactly what they did, though Collin remained dressed in his jeans and short sleeve shirt.  When Lo and Lily were in the pool, Lo again inquired, “What is up with your uncle?”

“What do you mean?” asked Lily.

“He hasn’t made a pass at me this entire time.  Not yesterday at the pool.  Not last night when I showed him how smooth my puss was after shaving.  Not this morning.”

“Are you trying to seduce him?” asked Lily with an air of faux judgment.

“I usually don’t have to try,” replied Lo.

“I think he just enjoys our company,” said Lily.

Lo wasn’t buying it.

When the two of them returned to the lounge chairs to tan, a number of men, many whom Lo had danced with the previous night, approached to ask permission to fool around with them.  Lo and Lily turned them all down, except one.  The married guy Lo had flirted with at the pool the day before.

“Do you have a condom?” asked Lo.

“Yes,” he said.

“Put it on,” she said.

He went back to the table where his wife was sitting and reached into her bag.  He returned with the condom.  Because he wasn’t hard yet, he asked Lo if she would mind putting it on him.

She obliged, fondling his balls and stroking his cock.  He grew hard quickly in her hand.  She was lying naked and he stood at her side.  When he was rigid, she opened the condom package and slid it on his rod.  He might have thought something else was going to happen, but Lo only stroked him over the condom as he looked at her.  She used her left hand to fondle herself and, occasionally, she looked up at him with an open mouth as if he would or could cum in it.  She knew he was about to blow and so she grabbed his member firmly in her palm and told him to cum.  She could see him cumming in the condom, filling it up with his jizz.  When he was done, he had to sit down in the chair next to Lo.

“That was amazing,” he said to her with much appreciation.

Lo looked at his middle-aged wife across the pool.  She seemed not to care.

After the man left, Lo looked at Collin, trying to discern something from his face, but all she drew was a blank.  He clearly had watched her, but what did it do for him?  She looked at his crotch.  It was big and full, as usual, but not displaying a raging hard-on, as she expected.

Lo turned over onto her tum.  She pulled out her old trick from high school.  “Collin, would you put some sunscreen on my back?” she asked.

Collin got up, put the lotion in his palm, and began applying to Lo’s shoulders.

“Lower,” she instructed.

He applied it to her back.

“Lower.”

He applied it to her lower back.

“Lower,” she said slowly.

He applied it to the dimples by her kidneys.

“Low-er,” she said even slower.

He applied it to the top of her ass.

Lo’s Ass

“Lowwww-er,” she said with a moan of pleasure.

He applied it to her ass cheeks.

She then raised her ass like a little inchworm to expose everything to the bright light of the sun, thus requiring it to get some lotion applied to it.

“Yeah,” said Lo, as Collins big hands ran between her legs, “that’s it.”

Finally getting the touch and attention she craved, she felt something welling up inside her.

“That’s enough,” she said abruptly.

Collin stopped.

Lo turned over and squeezed her legs together.

Oh shit!  Oh shit!  Why can’t I control this?!

She gushed from her pussy onto the lounge chair, causing it to rain onto the hot concrete beneath her.  Collin and Lily saw.  Lo was mortified.

“It happens sometimes,” said Lo, turning very very red in her face and on her chest.

She walked over to the showers and got under them, looking around to see if anyone saw what had just happened.

Soon the trio got dressed and packed up to leave the resort.

Casual Encounters

[The mini-series Mount Bliss continues from: A.O.L.]

Thursday the girls got up early and met Suzanne and Collin downstairs for breakfast.  Collin had an outing for the girls planned.  Suzanne was to stay home, again.

After breakfast they got on the road early because it was a long drive to their destination, which Collin kept a secret.  All he said was to pack a bathing suit and an overnight bag.  The trip was pleasant enough through the rolling hills.  They made what conversation they could, given that they were in the Jeep without a top and Lily was in the back seat.

After a few hours they arrived at the mystery spot.  It was a resort hotel tucked away in the mountains with every kind of amenity.  But, as they checked in and the girls marveled at the luxurious accommodations, Collin informed them that this was just where they were staying, but not the surprise he had in store for them.  That was to come later.

While eating a bite in the restaurant, Lo and Lily noticed something not quite normal about this place.

“Uncle Collin,” said Lily, “Don’t tell me. . .”

Collin cast a knowing glance at Lily and then a furtive one at Lola to see if she had caught on.

“What?” asked Lo.

“Uncle Collin is bad,” said Lily with a smirk on her lips.

“What?  Why?”

“I used to come here often with your aunt,” said Collin.  “I thought you girls would enjoy it.”

Lo looked at Lily with a quizzical expression.

“It’s a clothing optional resort,” whispered Lily.

“Oooooh,” replied Lo as she looked more closely at the people who had attracted her attention.  A lot of them were very scantily clad.  But not nude.

“Ready?” asked Collin after they finished their meals.

“Where to now?” asked Lo.

“You’ll see.”

They were back in the Jeep and not too far away they stopped at a popular tourist destination.

It was an expansive underground cavern with a subterranean river running through it.

The girls and Collin descended with the tour guide into the deep, dimly lit, drafty chamber full of stalactites and stalagmites.  The girls flanked Collin and held his hand so as not to get lost in the cool cave.  It was like sensory depravation and every whisper could be heard echoing through the bowels of the burrowed bedrock.

“It’s creepy,” said Lo.

“Do you think there are bats?” asked Lily.

They walked on until they came to “Lovers’ Landing,” a translucent red rock in the shape of a heart that was illuminated from below.

“Stand up there,” said the tour guide, “and your dreams will come true.”

The trio went to the elevated perch and each of the girls kissed Collin on the cheek while a fellow tourist took their photo.

Later, back at the resort, the girls went down to the pool with Collin.  It was good to be back in the sunshine again and the weather was warm for up in the mountains.

As they walked by the sun bathers, many of whom were nude, they found a little spot to sit so they could see and be seen.

“This is a very casual place,” said Collin to the girls, choosing his word carefully.

“What do you mean?” asked Lily.

“You’ll see.”

Later, when the three of them were in the hot tub, Lo removed her top and let her breasts glisten as the bubbling water washed over them.

A middle-aged man across from her was watching her carefully.  After a while of his keen observations, he finally made a move.  He approached Collin and asked something of him.  Lo couldn’t hear because of the sound of the jets in the hot tub.  She did hear Collin reply, “That’s not up to me.  Ask her yourself.”

The man glided over to Lo in the pool and asked, “Would you be interested in. . .”

“In what?”

“Um, well, having sex?”

Lo was a little surprised.

“You married?” she asked.

“Yes,” said the man.  “That’s my wife over there.”  He nodded in the direction of the lounge chairs and Lo could see a middle-aged woman lying out naked on one of them.  “It’s ok with her, if that’s your concern.”

Lo was intrigued for a number of reasons.

“You can come closer,” said Lo, “I don’t bite.”

The man sat next to her and soon they were talking.  Lo gave her permission for him to fondle her breasts and one thing led to another.  Before long they were locking lips.

Lo got between his legs and, though she didn’t let him penetrate her in the hot tub, she did feel his cock hard between her legs.

She looked over his shoulder at his wife who was watching the two of them. Then Lo turned around and looked back, behind her, to see Lily and Collin watching Lo’s every move as she slowly ascended and descended, bobbing up and down in the water, letting her tits gently flit across his lips.

After their fun, the guy got out of the pool, still hard-up, and Lo could see his full body.  He was about six feet tall, heavy set, beer belly.  A real “dad bod.”

Later, after dinner, Lo and Collin were dancing together in the “formal ballroom” of the hotel.  It was up-scale swank, though swimwear attire or less was acceptable anywhere inside or out.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?” asked Collin in Lo’s ear.

“I did.  And I am,” she replied.

“You liked the attention of that man at the pool?”

“I didn’t not like it,” she replied coyly.

They continued dancing until another man cut in.  Lo graciously accepted and Collin bowed out like a true gentleman, returning to the table where Lily sat.  He asked her to dance, but she passed.

After a few hours of flirtatious dancing, the trio retired to their hotel room.  Collin had reserved one room with two full beds.  Lo was not sure what the actual sleeping arrangements would be.

When Collin went into the bathroom, Lo turned to Lily and quietly whispered, “What does he want?”

Lily shrugged her shoulders, as if to say, “Whatever you want, it’s fine by me.”

Collin emerged from the bathroom in his pajama bottoms, no top.  His hairy, broad chest, wide shoulders, and large biceps all exposed.  Lo had slipped into her white t-shirt and Lily was wearing sweatpants shorts and a cut-off top.

When the bathroom was free, Lily slipped in to get ready for bed.  Lo looked at Collin, who was now lying down in his own bed.  Perhaps for the first time in her life, she was dumbstruck.  She didn’t know what he was hoping for or expecting, nor what she was interested in pursuing at that time.  She couldn’t read him.  What were his intentions?  Around Lo, men rarely conceal their intentions.  Men immediately picked up on Lo’s vibe, so to speak.  She knows how to project the message, “I am available for your pleasure.”  And when men receive that subliminal message, they are unable to resist.  Lo was telegraphing this message loud and clear, but not receiving the response she expected.

There was an awkward silence and then she finally said, “So you and Suzanne used to come here a lot?”

“Yes,” he said, “when we were first married, about twenty years ago.”

“Why didn’t she join us?” Lo asked, braving the obvious question.

“She likes her time alone at the lake house,” replied Collin, begging the question.

Lo was about to form a follow-up question, when Lily returned.

Now it was Lo’s turn to use the bathroom.  She got up, very conscious of the fact that the t-shirt didn’t cover her entire bottom.  She was in the bathroom for a long time.

When she rejoined Collin and Lily, she said by way of explanation, “Sorry I was so long.  I wanted to make sure I was nice and smooth for the pool tomorrow.  What do you think?” she asked as she lifted her t-shirt so they could see her freshly shaved pussy.

Lola Reverse View

“Delectable,” said Collin.

Lo bent over to look through her overnight bag and pulled out some moisturizing lotion.  “Here it is,” she said as she applied some to her right palm and caressed it over her soft mons pubis and between her legs as she sat on the side of the bed, facing Collin.  “Well,” she said with a smile, swinging her legs into the bed, “good night.”

Lily was behind her and looked over at Uncle Collin, saying, “Oh, I’m so tired.  I’m sure I’ll sleep well tonight.  I bet a construction crew banging away with a jackhammer wouldn’t wake me tonight!  Good night.”

Uncle Collin chuckled, said good night, and turned out the light.  Lo felt Lily’s arm around her waist and Lo turned to her and ran her hand down from Lily’s shoulder to her rear, touching her under her shorts.  The two of them fell asleep like that.

Heart Stone

A.O.L.

[Continued from Fast, Wet, & Slippery]

 

After the long day at the lake and the suggestive movie, when Lo and Lily went to bed that night, Lo got up the guts to ask Lily, “What did you mean when you told me that lying out in the sun naked here is no different than being naked in front of your dad?”

Lily laughed a little and said, “You know we’re French, right?”

“You mean, like French French?  I mean, born there?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, I thought I mentioned it.”

“Well, you might have said in passing that your family is French, but I thought that was a few generations ago.”

“No, my dad and his brother Collin came here just before I was born, like twenty-three years ago or so.”

“But they have no accent!”

“Their parents were diplomats and they were raised half in America and half in France.  But even in France, they went to the American School.”

“Oh.”

“And your mom?”

“My mom is from D.C.  My dad met her when he was at the French Embassy here.”

“Oh.”

“So, in France we always vacation in the south and it’s pretty much all nude beaches there.  That’s all I meant by that.  Nothing kinky.”

“Oh, I see.  And so Collin was just interested in Blue is the Warmest of Color because he’s French and it’s a French movie?”

“Probably,” she snickered.  “That, and he’s a horny fuck.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He is!  Haven’t you noticed?”

“Well, he has been showing me a lot of attention.”

“A lot of attention?!  Come on, Lo!  You know that there’s something between you two.”

Lo blushed and admitted, “OK, I know he wants me, but what about your Aunt Suzanne?  I mean, she’s got to know something’s up.”

“I think that they have an understanding,” she said with a knowing, mysterious smile.

“What makes you think that?”

“I have my ways,” said Lily, delighting in the unspoken.

“Do you think that Collin is trying to encourage you and me to play?”

Lily said nothing.

“Or me and Suzanne?”

Lily again said nothing.

“Come on Lily!  You have to have some take on it.  I mean, if you know that they have an understanding, you must have some idea what Collin’s up to with that porno film he showed us.”

“Lo!  It wasn’t a porno film.  It won tons of awards!”

“It was porn and he meant for us to view it that way.”

“It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“I’m not denying that,” said Lo, who was simultaneously and unconsciously playing with her pussy beneath the covers, “but paint drying turns me on.  I want to know what Collin’s plan is?  What’s he scheming?”

Lo leaned toward Lily, who was sitting on the bed not far from Lo, and Lo said in a whisper, “Or did you suggest the movie?”

“Meeeee?” squealed Lily, playing innocent.  “I didn’t.  Why?  Do you want to seduce me?”

“Do you want me to seduce you?  To finger you the way those two girls did?”

“Oh no,” said Lily, to Lo’s great disappointment.

“No?” repeated Lo in disbelief.  She’s not used to being turned down.

“No fingering me.  No.  I’m A-O-L.”

“What?”

“Anal Only Lifestyle.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just what it says.  I only do anal.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’ve never met anyone who only did anal.  I mean, I’ve met lots of people who swear never to do anal, but not the other way around.”

“Well, I’m not only French, I’m also Catholic.”

Lo laughed.  “What’s that have to do with anything?”

“A lot!  You see, the Church teaches that sex before marriage is wrong.”

“You didn’t buy that B.S., did you?”

“I did!  And before I was married, I tried to be a good girl.”

“But anal sex,” Lo began to say, putting the pieces together.

“Anal sex isn’t sex, and so, I was a good little anal slut in high school.  I never had sex – according to the Church – but I had lots of loads up my ass.  I grew to really like it.  No, to love it.  And so, even now, it’s only anal for me, even though I’m married.”

“Really?!” asked Lo in disbelief.

“I’m still, technically, a virgin.”

“How’s Jim feel about that?” asked Lo with deep curiosity.

“Oh, he’s such a romantic,” she said, almost dismissively.  “He wants so badly to take my virginity.  But I’ve held off.”

“Why?”

There was a long pause and the conversation turned serious as Lily pondered the simple question.

“I guess,” she began slowly, “I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid he might not like it or. . . maybe I won’t like it.  You know how small he is.”

Lo knew very well.

“I guess I prefer that he just keep on banging my backdoor than take a chance on coming in the front.”

Anal Anime

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lola

Fast, Wet, & Slippery

Since the story of what happened that week was leaked to me piece-by-piece through various curt emails and similarly brief phone calls, punctuated by alluring photos with suggestive texts, I’ll just tell you the story that I heard when Lo and I were finally reunited together at Collins lakeside cabin.

Fun Bum

Tuesday night Lily, Lo, and Collin returned to the farm-to-table restaurant to have the meal that they had helped harvest earlier that day.  Lo was dusty and disheveled due to all the work, but the restaurant’s dress code was quite lax.  They had what Lo described as one of the most scrumptious meals of her life.  It was just the three of them at a small, candle-lit table.  Collin regaled them with stories.

Back at the cottage, Lo and Lily went to bed early again, exhausted from all the day’s activities.  Lo repeated her solo performance of the night before, telling Lily as she rubbed one out how hot she finds Lily’s Uncle Collin.  She went through a little fantasy of spending time with him in a hotel room somewhere away from her Aunt Suzanne.

The next day was a crystal clear blue sky reflected in the still mirror-like water of the lake.  Collin, pleased and almost proud of the weather as if it was his handywork, said they’d spend the day on the boat.  Lo and Lily got into their bikinis and, after breakfast, they got into the speedboat and departed, without Suzanne again.  She and the dogs, Shadow and Bandit, were on the dock as the boat pulled away.  She wished them a fun time and returned to the house as the trio sped off, sending ripples across the lake’s surface.

When they got to the middle of the lake, Collin stopped the boat and turned to the girls, asking, “Want to have some fun?”

Lily’s eyes lit up as she grabbed the tubes and threw them behind the boat, careful to avoid the motor.  Lo was confused, but Lily literally showed her the ropes.  The two of them got on top of the inner tubes and held on to the rope, tethered to the boat.

“Don’t go too fast!” called Lily to Collin.  Then she showed Lola the hand-signals for: faster, slower, stop.

Collin gave the thumbs-up sign.  Lily turned to Lo and asked, “Ready?”

Not sure what was going to happen, Lo gave a frightened nod.

Lily gave the thumbs-up sign back to Collin and away they went.

The tubes bounced off the waves made by the boat as they scudded across the surface of the lake, slowly at first, but with gradually increasing speed.  Lo held on tightly and was having a fun, if terrifying, time.

They danced across the nearly vacant lake, making large figure eights and tight circles.  But then Lo felt something that made her apprehensive.  She could feel the bottoms of her bikini sliding off with the resistance of the waves splashing over her.  She put up her hand on her head to indicate stop, but Collin didn’t see until it was too late.  About fifty yards back were her yellow bikini bottoms floating on the water.  She was lucky they floated.  Actually, she would have been find either way I guess.

When they realized what had happened, Lily and Collin had a good laugh.  Lo let go of the rope and swam, her naked bum bouncing in the water, as she retrieved her bottoms.

She put them on in the water and tied the strings tightly.

They continued the tubing adventure until, when Collin stopped the boat again, Lo lifted up her head to listen to what he was saying.  She couldn’t hear him over the sputter of the engine, so he did pantomime.  Then she realized that he was telling her that her top had fallen down.  The waves had pushed her bikini top down below her tits.  They laughed again at her public exposure.

When the trio returned to the cottage and docked the boat, the girls decided to lie out and sunbathe.

Collin joked that since Lo’s bikini was so averse to staying on her body, she should just tan in the buff.  Lo took him at his word and asked, “Is that ok?”

“Sure,” he said with a wide grin.

Both Lo and Lily removed their bikinis and lay out in the noontime sun while Collin and Suzanne waited on them hand and foot.

At one point, when Collin and Suzanne were inside, Lo turned to Lily next to her and asked, “Don’t you feel a little awkward nude in front of your uncle?”

Lily looked at Lo, smiled mysteriously, and simply said, “Nah.  It’s no different than being naked in front of my dad.”

Lo went back to sipping her G&T wondering what that meant.

The rest of that day was spent lounging around the house, swimming, playing badminton, horseshoes, and cornhole, all in the nude outside while Suzanne and Collin, dressed, looked on like two proud parents.  A few boats slowed down as they passed about a hundred yards from the shore, enamored of the view, no doubt.  That night they all stayed in and watched a movie.  Of course Collin chose, Blue is the Warmest Color, which neither Lo nor I had seen, despite all the adulation and criticism it received.

By the time they watched it, Lo and Lily had showered and were dressed, but that didn’t stop Lo from stroking her pussy surreptitiously under a blanket during that eight minute long steamy sex scene.  She wondered, of course, what Collin or Collin and Suzanne were scheming by putting that particular movie on for “the girls” to watch.

I’m cumming for you

Farm to Table

[Continued from “Tuesday’s Tale.”]

Though her brief email Tuesday morning gave me some indication as to what was going on in vacationland, it left me with so many more questions: What were Lo and Lily wearing to bed?  Just how many times did Lo masturbate?  What was Lily’s reaction?  Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long for my answers.  Lo knows me well.  As soon as she sent the email, she also texted me to alert me to its dispatch and she said, “Tell me when you’re done reading it.”

I texted her back and she immediately called me with her very sexy, sultry voice.

“Hi Daddy.”

I was at work.  I couldn’t respond in kind.

“Tell me, how is your vacation?” I asked in a quasi-formal tone.

“Mmmmmmm,” was all I heard from the other end of the line.  Her answer left a lot to the imagination.

“Lo, I can’t really talk right now, so. . .”

“We’re going out today, Daddy,” she said, interrupting me.  “I’ll call you later, ok?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Do you miss me?”

“Very much.”

“Do you want me to come?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to come?”

Was she masturbating on the phone?  I had no idea.  It wouldn’t be unheard of.  But then she added, “home.”  “Do you want me to come home?” she asked.

“I miss you, Lo.  But have a good time.  Call me tonight?”

“I miss you too.  Gotta run,” she said hastily.  “Kisses!”  Then she hung up.

I didn’t hear back from her that night.  It wasn’t until Wednesday morning that I got word from her and that meant I slept almost not at all Tuesday night.

Wednesday morning she sent me a photo that appeared to be her giving an incredibly tiny cock a hand-job, but it was hard to tell exactly.

The text that accompanied the picture simply said, “Getting a lot of practice for you, Daddy.  Do you miss me?”  I received those at about 7:45 Wednesday morning, before I went to work.  I asked her to call me, but she didn’t respond.  After another poor night of sleep for me, this was just too much to bear.

When she called later Wednesday, she caught me at work yet again.  I sat at my desk and heard her phone-sex voice as I tried to remain poker-faced.  I felt like a wax statue exposed to a hot fire.  She melted me inside, but I remained stoic externally.

She gave me the details of Tuesday’s excursion.  After a small breakfast at home, Collin had announced that he had very special dinner plans for Lily and Lola.  It was too cloudy and cool for the boat on the lake and so, he suggested a different outing.  Suzanne wasn’t going to join.  Collin said the girls should wear clothes they could get dirty in.  Lo’s curiosity was piqued.  Lo wore her denim skirt and a white, semi-transparent tank top.  No panties, no bra.

Soon the girls were in the Jeep with Collin riding across the terrain again, which frightened Lo half to death, but also exhilarated her.  Collin brazenly had his hand on Lo’s knee the entire ride.

They arrived at a farm, about a half hour from the cottage.  Collin explained to Lo and Lily that dinner was literally going to be a farm-to-table experience, but that he had arranged for the girls to work on the farm first to “earn your keep.”  The girls were game.  “You know how I love the country life,” said Lo over the phone.

Their chores included picking the fruit: peaches, apples, nectarines.  That required Lo to climb up the ladders while Colin held them in place, giving him the perfect view up her skirt.

Then they had to move the bales of hay.  This was very difficult for them, but Collin came in with a tractor and they were able to stack the hay properly.

Collin then let the girls take turns driving the tractor around the perimeter of the property before the girls were really put to work in the barn.  They had to milk the goats.  (So that’s what that picture was!)  Lo told me how good she was at it due to her wide experience using her hands with the same movement.

The GOAT

“Mr. H.,” said Ms. Gale, my secretary, barging into my office.

“What?” I almost barked at her.

“There is a client here to see you.”

“With an appointment?”

“No.”

“Tell whomever it is, I’m busy.”

“But. . .”

“Busy!  And please close the door behind you Ms. Gale.”

She exited.

“If you’re busy Daddy. . .” began Lo.

“No, I want to hear the rest of your story,” I said, sounding almost desperate.

She went on to tell me that after milking the goats, they had to churn the milk into butter.  She bragged again about how expert she was at that and insinuated that she also had a lot of practice.

Finally, after doing their chores on the farm, Collin took the girls for a horseback ride, bareback, to a park where they had a little snack of fresh baked bread, the butter they had made, some cheese, and the fruit they had picked.  Lo informed me that she sat in such a way to allow Collin more views of her pink, ripe delights.

Lo asked me, “Do you prefer peach or nectarine, Daddy?”

“Are you referring to fruit, Lo?” I asked, perplexed.

“What do you think?” she teased.

“Well,” I said, “when you left, you were peach.”

“Let’s just say I’m nectarine now.  And very juicy.”

I could hardly handle it.  She knows how to entice me.  “Show me,” I said.

She said I should wait a minute, hung up, and then texted me a pic.  It was not exactly what I had expected: a photo of a peach next to a nectarine.

“Very funny,” I typed back.

Then she followed it with a photo of her shaved pussy peeking out of her short denim skirt.

Collin’s View?

“What happened next?” I asked, impatient to hear her whole story and a bit scared she’d scamper off again to do who-knows-what before getting to the end of her day.

After lunch, Lo told me, they went to town and browsed through the little knick-knack stores, antique stores, art galleries, and bookshops.  Lo said she found one book that she showed to Collin to get his attention.  It was an anthology of erotica.  She asked Collin if he or his wife enjoy naughty reads.

But before telling me his answer, she simply told me that he was more than happy to buy the book for her and she sent me a little photo to prove it.

Erotic Crotch

After their excursion to town, they returned to the farm/restaurant for dinner, but, just as she was launching into her “I’ve got a sexy story to tell you” voice, Ms. Gale again interrupted.

“Mr. H., that client is still here.  Will you see him?”

Infuriated, I made my apologies to Lo and hung up, more frustrated than Coleridge when the visitor from Porlock arrived.

 

Mount Bliss: Tuesday’s Tale

[Continued from the mini-series “Mount Bliss” and the story “The Invitation“]

True to her word, Lo did email me the next morning.  Just before noon I received the missive.  She said, briefly, that she and Lily had arrive around 1:00 in the afternoon the previous day and that the cottage is very cute.  It’s a two bed, two full-bath place on a vacation destination lake, surrounded by woods.  But, according to Lo, it is far from “a small cabin.  We’re not talking Thoreau, here,” she said.  Each of the bedrooms had its own fireplace and the bathrooms were as large as our master bedroom at home.

She said that she and Lily were greeted by Collin and his wife.  Wife?!  I had no idea he was married and apparently neither did Lo.  Of course Lily did know, but she had never mentioned her aunt to us.  According to Lo, Collin and his wife, Suzanne, have a strained relationship.  More often than not, Lily would see Collin at family events and not Suzanne.  There was always some plausible excuse, but Lily was never very close with Suzanne; Collin being Lily’s father’s brother.  But she was at the cabin for this visit.  Lo said she was nice enough, though neither Lily nor Lola knew she’d be in attendance.

After they arrived Monday, Collin and Suzanne had a large lunch ready for them and they ate outside.  The weather was perfect – in the seventies, sunny, remarkably no mosquitos!  After lunch, Collin showed them around the area.  They took his Jeep and drove to town, up the mountain, and down into the little artist community nearby.  Lily sat in front and Lo in the back until they stopped for ice cream at one of Collin’s little out-of-the-way places that only locals know about.  It was about halfway up one of the mountains by a little lake and it had a great view of the larger lake below where the cabin sat.

After their ice cream – Collin’s treat – Lo sat up front.  “Want to do a little off-roading?” he asked.  The girls were up for a bit of an adventure.  So they took the dirt trail down the mountain.  “Hold on,” said Collin with a wide grin on his face.

The ride down the mountain was bumpy and Lo really thought they were going to flip the Jeep over.  At one point, Collin reached out his large hand and, using the excuse of protecting Lo as they went over a big bump, he pawed her breast.  She, in her excitement, grabbed his hand and held it tightly as it rested on her bare thigh.

When they got to the bottom of the mountain and back on the road, Collin turned to her and said, “Are you ok?” as he rubbed her smooth leg.

“My heart’s racing just a little,” said Lo.  He kept his hand on her leg the rest of the ride home.

When they got back to the house, Collin brought in some wood from outside.

“Are you going to make a fire?” asked Lo.

“Later tonight,” said Collin.

“But it’s so warm,” said Lo who was in a crop-top and short-shorts.

“It will cool down tonight.  We’re up in the mountains and the temperature has some dramatic swings.”

Suzanne made them all alcoholic beverages and they sat out on the lawn, in the waning sunshine of the day, sipping their tall, cool drinks and chatting before dinner.  Suzanne is in her mid-fifties, younger than Collin, and in very good shape.  She has shoulder length black hair and likes to wear tight jeans.  They have no kids together, just a large brown and white dog, named Bandit, who was running in the yard, carefree, and a small black dog named Shadow who lay under the table in the shade.

Lo’s Short Shorts, Sexy Ass & Pussy

“Tomorrow, we’ll go out on the boat,” said Collin.  Lo’s eyes lit up.  She loves a man whose sole purpose is to entertain her.

They had a big meal inside and then Collin lit a roaring fire.  They sat by it, but it made the girls sleepy and soon they were headed off to bed.  It was a California king size bed that they were sharing.  Once they were both in it and the lights were off, Lo turned to Lily and said, “Your uncle Collin is really something.”

“Yeah,” said Lily, “He’s always been a lot of fun.”

“But so handsome too.  Men’s magazine handsome.”

“I’ll admit, I always had a bit of a crush on him,” said Lily.  “Is that weird?”

“No, not at all,” said Lo, before turning on her back and silently stroking herself under the covers.  “Do you mind,” asked Lo, “if I really quickly rub one out?  I kinda need to in order to fall asleep.”

Lily didn’t mind.  Lo, luckily, didn’t squirt.

Hallmark of a Happy Hotwife

 

Lola helps her bf cum

Writing is a solitary act.  Writing a sex blog is not.  Almost by definition, writing a sex blog is an invitation for strangers to enter your bedroom and allow them easy access to, well, to your deepest, darkest, most mysterious parts of yourself.

“Are there pictures of you on your blog?” asked one fella who apparently got Lo’s email, but had not explored the website for himself yet.

Lo’s sarcastic and salacious response was, “Is there water in the ocean?  Only one way to find out – dive in and get wet!”

After a couple sent us a photo of the two of them making love while simultaneously looking at Lo’s photos on the computer, she turned to me and said, “I guess I’m just a hopeless romantic.  I love helping couples cum together.”

My Friend from NJ enjoying the stories about me.

A different fella sent Lo some sexy photos of himself hard for her and asked for some in return.

“If you keep it up, I promise you’ll get more,” she said, never shy of telling men to keep it up.

“What’s your name?” asked Lo of one admirer.

“Justin.”

“Oh, my man was ‘just in’ me!”

Her dad jokes are equal to her daddy issues.

“How are your book sales doing?” inquired a reader.

“Well, we have 5 books out. They sell fairly regularly, like 3-4 a week. The e-books do better – probably because a lot of married men don’t want some smut to show up on their doorstep for their wives to find. That’s my job.”

“What is?”

“To be some slut who shows up on their doorstep for their wives to find.”

“Which do you recommend, the e-book or the hard-copy?”

“I recommend you get it hard.”

“Do you like to get tribute pics?” asked one guy.

“Cum to me – big, small, sissy, straight – I like it all!”

One guy sent Lo a pic of himself getting off to her photos while his wife was sleeping naked in the bed next to him.  She turned to me and said, “I love being the goto girl for married men.  The only thing hotter than that is being the goto mutual masturbation material for couples.”

One morning, before Christmas, she posted a bunch of photos of her in a red dress, exposing her naked crotch.

“What are you up to?” I asked her naively.

“I’m just spreading the cheer,” she answered as she showed me the computer screen filled with her pussy pics.

“Do men just want to see your pussy?”

“No,” she said, “women do too.”

“I mean, are people only interested in that one part?”

She shot back, “They say that the whole is greater than the parts, but my hole isn’t greater than all my parts.”

“Let’s play a game,” I suggested.

“Oooo, what sort of game?”

“You spread your legs and I’ll pretend to be NASA and I’ll be the first to get a photograph of a black hole.”

“Funny, but no.  Instead of photographing me, why don’t you bend me over the bed and fuck me?”

“I can’t, I have to get to work.”

“Just bend me over and fill me up.”

“It’s not a Quickie Mart.  I’m not just gonna fill ’er up and grab a coffee.”

“Why not?”

I walked over to her.  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and spread them far apart.  I touched her inner thigh.

“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” she asked in her little girl tone of voice, looking up at me.

“I want you to do what makes you happy.”

“Then I should be doing you.  I wanted you last night,” she said.

“Yeah, well you didn’t say so.”

“You couldn’t tell from how I was stroking your cock?”

“You didn’t say you wanted me.”

“I didn’t know I had to use a magic formula, like ‘Open Sesame.’”

“I like to hear you say it.”

She grabbed my cock over my slacks as I stood at the side of the bed.  She used her other hand to spread her pussy lips.  “Get back in bed.”

“Why?”

“Cause I said so.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“What do you want?”

“Get back in bed and I’ll show you.”

I climbed back into the bed, still in my suit.  “OK.”

She fondled me more.  “Don’t you want me, Daddy?”

“I want to hear you articulate your needs.”

“Fuck me.”

Though it was a command and not a request, nonetheless, I pulled down my pants and got between her legs and said, “Open says me.”

“Oh, Daddy, you don’t have to say any magic formula for me.  I’m always open.”

After she came, I got out of bed.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I have a lot of things to do.  You were just first on the list.”

I went to work.  It was her “work at home” day.  Yeah, right.

When I returned, a little after one, for lunch, I found her in the same position I had left her: on the bed, computer open, legs open, fingers between her legs.

“I’m ready for lunch, Daddy,” she said.  “Feed me.”

“What do you want?”

“Your meat.”

This was as close as a request as I was going to get.  I got out of my suit this time and into bed next to her.  I reached down between her legs.

“You’re sopping wet.”

“Maybe it’s because of my multiple orgasms.”

“What multiple orgasms?” I feigned shock.

“I jilled it this morning.”

“Without me?!”  Again, faux-surprise.

“I got lonely.”

“Lonely or horny?”

“Both.”

“So you jilled it all morning?”

“Not all morning.  It went into the afternoon.”

“And you still want me now?”

“Do you want me?” she asked, back to playing coy.

“Why don’t you just come out and ask for what you want?” I asked in exasperation.

“It’s as obvious as 2+2=4!”

“Then why don’t you just say ‘four’?”

“What do you think this is, golf?”

“I’m hoping for a hole in one.”

“Two in one hole would be better,” she said.

I was poised to penetrate her.  She licked her fingers and put them down below to wriggle herself a bit.  She moaned, “Oh yeah, that feels good.”  Then, a little later, she moaned again, “I like that.  Yes.”  Followed by, “Mmmmm, deeper.”

I said to her, “Lo, I’m not even in you.  I’m patiently waiting my turn to enter.”

“Just a little while longer,” she whispered, enchanted by her own ability to make love to herself.

After she came, I got out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“To eat my lunch.  That’s what I came home to do.”

“But what about me?” she whined.

“Darling, I’ve been at work while you’ve been home just sitting here twiddling your thumbs.”

“And diddling my bean!”

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your obviously packed calendar.”

“Don’t go!” she pleaded.

“If you want something, you need to learn to ask.”

“Get in the bed and fuck me.”

“See, you sound like a drill sergeant barking orders at privates.”

“I’ll bark at your privates alright.”

“That’s it, I’m going,” I said, actually pissed at her.

“Oh, don’t be mad Daddy.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to fight.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“We’re not?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “The friction point between your feelings and mine – that’s called a relationship.”

“Well, come over here and let me grease up that friction point.”

I returned to the bed and this time her hands were between her legs, but not to frig herself, but to pull her pussy lips apart, opening her doors wide to accept my piston.

I slid in with a slurping sound and she whispered, “It’s a well-oiled machine.”

It was so well lubricated that I unthinkingly commented, “It’s lost in there like a needle in a haystack!”

“Is it my fault that you’re like a needle?”

“That’s it,” I said, pulling out.  “I’m going to go out for lunch.”

I walked out of the room and she threw a pillow at the door.

I popped back in and looked at her.

“Unarmed?” I asked.

Another pillow flew at me.  I quickly shut the bedroom door, blocking her attempt.

Opening the door again, I asked, “So, do you want me?”

“Well, on the one hand, I do, but on the other hand, I’m still mad at you.”

“Which hand wants me? – use that one. . . on yourself.”

I left and she yelled out, “Fuck you!”

When I got home later that day, I found dinner on the table and Lola running up to me at the door, giving me a big, wet kiss on the lips.

I pulled back a little and looked at her in the skimpy outfit she was wearing.

“That’s a beautiful, sexy sundress,” I remarked.

“It’s not a sundress.  It’s a shirt.”

“Well, it should be a sundress.  What an ass!  You look great in that sundress!”

“It’s not a sundress!”

“Let me take a picture of you.”

“No.  But I think it’s cute that you want to.”

“You look so good.  Let me take a few pics. . . for posterity’s sake.”

When I said that, she turned around, bent over, and proudly displayed to me her posterity.

“Lo,” I said, “I think I’m allergic to you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because every time I get near your naked body my penis swells up.  Why don’t we skip dinner and get right to dessert?”

“Oh, Daddy, this isn’t for you,” she said apologetically.

“What?”

“No, I’m expecting Robert for dinner.”

“Robert?!  Seriously?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.  I should have told you.”

“When did these plans happen?”

“Well. . . um,” she was stalling.

“Lo.”

“After you left.  I was mad at you, so I called him and invited him over for dinner.”

“Looks like you’re expecting him to eat more than the chicken breast you made,” I said, looking again at the sexy little number she was wearing.

“Would you like a plate?” she asked, offering a consolation prize.

“No,” I said.  “I’m tired and I’m hungry.  I’d like to change out of my suit, sit at the table, and be waited on hand-and-foot.”

“That still might happen,” she said.  “The night is young.”

“And I’m old.”

“You can say that again.”

“And I’m old.”

“I wish I could turn back time to when you were in your thirties.”

“You weren’t even born then.”

“But Daddy,” she said, pressing her tits up against my chest, “I’ll save my sinning for you.  I’ll be a good girl, but I’ll be ready to be bad with you.  You’re my sexual rebellion, my slut revolution, my love liberation.”

I looked longingly at the warm meal, meticulously laid out on the table.

Lo turned my head so I was looking back at her.

“I liked the picture you texted me,” I said, referring to a naughty text she had sent me while I was at work.

“Did you jack off to it at work?”

“No!”

“Well why not?  You weren’t the only one I sent it to, you know.  A lot of other guys did jack off to it at work.  I’m beginning to think you don’t love me as much as they do.”

“Because I don’t jack off to you at work?”

“Precisely.”

“But I can fuck you at home.”

“It’s not the same.”

Just then the doorbell rang.  Robert was at the door.

“Can we continue this conversation later, Daddy?” she asked.

“Where would you like me to go while you and your date have dinner?” I asked, defeated.

“Why don’t you get yourself a nice meal at your favorite restaurant and I’ll call you when we’re done?”

“Not longer than an hour?”

“Definitely not longer than two, promise.”

I let Robert in and, after a brief hello, I said I was just on my way out.  “Enjoy your meal,” I said very sarcastically.

Two and a half hours, one meal, two beers, and an old fashioned later, my phone finally signaled a text from Lo: “Cum to me.”

I walked in and found her naked sitting at the dining room table.  No Robert.

She was looking at her computer and showed me some photos.

One guy typed, “Got any more naughty pics?”

“If that’s not enough for you, then just google ‘mysexlifewithlola.’  You’ll get more pics than you can shake a stick at.”

“That’s funny,” she said to me.

“Shake a stick at?”

“Yeah.”

“Very droll, dear,” I said as I stood next to her.  “How was your dinner date?”

She didn’t answer my question.  She just undid the button of my pants and slithered me out of them.

She sat me down in the chair and positioned her body over me.  She clearly wanted me to fuck her.  But I wanted her to ask.  She said, “You have to learn to intuit.  Intuit!  Intuit!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get into it!” I said as she spread her legs over my lap and pressed her tits into my face.  Cum, Robert’s cum, slowly slid out of her spread pussy lips and dripped onto my hard cock.

She lowered herself down on me and I entered her slowly, like the filter of a French Press plunging intently into the warm, wet cannister.

A breathy moan.

She kissed me and after, she lifted herself up, turned around, and slid down, her back toward me.

She began typing on her computer as she rhythmically rode my pole.

“Lo, are you ever going to get off that machine?”
“I told you, Daddy, it’s my work from home day.”

“Well, I think you need to take a break.”

“I’ll get off of it, just as soon as I get off from it.”

“Can’t I get you off, vaginally, not virtually, you know, like in the old days?”

“It enhances the experience.”

I looked over her shoulder and saw that she sent to a guy a photo of herself with a little space for a caption to be written about her.

She typed, “Why don’t you fill in the blank.”

“I thought that was my job,” I said, meaning both filling up her cunt and my job as a writer.

She noticed my presence again when I said that and she let me look over her shoulder as she clicked on a picture of a guy holding up his phone with Lo’s photo on it while he fucked his wife.  “I love that he’s is thinking of me while he is fucking her.”

“Such a sincere sentiment.  It should go in a Hallmark card.”

“That’s brilliant!” she shouted, turning around to look at me.

“What is?”

“A line of Lola greeting cards.”

“Perhaps you could create them.  I think you could use another hobby to focus all your creative juices.”

And at that, she lifted up just enough to release her climactic juices on me.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy!”

“It’s quite alright.  Maybe one of these days we’ll get around to my orgasm.  Or should I just go on-line and pose as one of your admirers?”

“I’m sorry!” she said again.

“It’s ok.  I guess women can also have premature ejaculation.”

“It was hardly premature,” she said.

She began stroking my cock, now extremely lubricated by her and Robert’s emollient, as she told me that Robert went at her like never before.  Her theory was that he liked being waited on hand-and-foot.

“And how was your dinner, Daddy,” she asked, as she continued to jack me off.

I couldn’t answer.  I was too busy imagining her with Robert.

“Did you get a good meal?  Did it fill you up?  I was so full up,” she said.

I was speechless.

“Were you thinking of me, Daddy?  Did you think about how he got his rocks off to me?  Did you think about how we fucked in the dining room, right here, where you are now?”

“Did you show him your internet admirers too?”

“No, Daddy.  We just fucked.  He bent me over the table and fucked me.  Then he turned me over and spread my legs and fucked me as I sat on the edge of the table.  The windows were open and he fucked me hard as I screamed at the top of my lungs.  I’m sure the neighbors saw, or at least heard it all.  Then he grabbed my ankles and lifted them up high and pulled out of my pussy and slid into my ass.  Back and forth, back and forth he went, filling one hole and then another.  He asked where I wanted him to cum and I didn’t care.  I told him I didn’t want him to cum yet.  Fuck me!  Fuck my holes!  I said, but he came and came deep in me.  He collapsed on the chair where you’re sitting now and I slid off the table and got on my knees, like I am now, and covered his cock with my mouth to lick him clean until he couldn’t handle it anymore.  Then he put his clothes on and left, leaving me naked at the table.”

She saw that I was finally ready to explode and she dropped her dirty mouth down on to my dick, just like she described with Robert, and coaxed me to cum.  And cum I did, forcefully and voluminously.  So much that it came out of her nose.  She was a hot mess, literally, when I was done.

“There you go,” I said, “the hallmark of a happy hotwife.”  I chuckled to myself when I reflected that the original meaning of “hallmark” was “a sign of purity.”

Lola’s Christmas Card

A Report on the Nymphomaniac Condition

“A Report on the Nymphomaniac Condition” first appeared in ENM (Ethical Non-Monogamy) Magazine, March, 2020 issue.

It was said by the renowned sex researcher, Alfred Kinsey, that “A nymphomaniac is someone who has more sex than you do.”  It would seem that modern psychology has caught up with Kinsey’s insight.  The dictionary of psychological disorders, the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM), removed nymphomania from its list in 1980.  But does that mean Nymphomania no longer exists?

In popular culture “sex addiction” has been used as a catch-all for a number of “disorders” that have been named and described: hypersexuality, compulsive sexual behavior, erotomania, hyperfilia, etc.  But the DSM puts almost all of these under one listing: Sexual Disorder Not Otherwise Specified.  This heading is as ambiguous, amorphous, and as slippery as the subject itself.

However, let’s keep in in mind that no matter how something is categorized or listed, it’s not a “disorder” unless it is distressing to the person exhibiting it or has detrimental effects in one’s life.  If the result of the behavior is a net negative, then it could be labeled a disorder.  That net negative could be manifested psychologically, as in feelings of guilt and remorse, or could result in actual physical harm to oneself.  Other net negatives could include weakening of relationships, loss of a job, or other harms external to oneself.

Fan, getting off to Lo at work

In modern European and American culture, nymphomania has as checkered a past as the women diagnosed with it.  Even though there is a male correlate to it – satyriasis – the two labels have been employed in radically different ways.  Historically, the ascription of “nymphomaniac” has been applied to women who, had their gender been ascribed to men and the behaviors described as those of men, rarely would they be described as afflicted with satyriasis.  In other words, historically, women exhibiting the same healthy and robust sexuality of men would be diagnosed with a disorder while their male counterparts gained the praise and admiration of others as Don Juans.

But, in the last decade or so, with the rise of internet porn, the term “sex addict” has been increasingly utilized in less stereotypical and gender specific, patriarchal ways.  Famous actors such as Rob Lowe, David Duchovny, and Charlie Sheen all have come out as being sex addicts, making it easier for others to do so.

Despite the DSM debunking the myth of nymphomania and our modern society’s willingness to embrace a more gender-neutral term applicable to men and women, the term “nymphomania” and its connotations continues to live on in the culture’s consciousness and the collective unconscious.

Fan, getting off to Lo

Nymphomania is a concept that has a history to it almost as old as civilization itself.  In Jewish lore there was Lilith, the contemporary or predecessor of Eve, who refused to be subservient to Adam and, supposedly, insisted on taking the “top” position during sex.  Her name is derived from the Hebrew for “night” and she is associated with other female night demons who seduce men.  As such, she is a succubus.  This tale probably has its origin in explaining men’s nocturnal emissions.

Throughout history, assertive women and sexually promiscuous women have been associated with the demonic.  Accusing a woman of being a witch was one way of marginalizing or eradicating powerful and lustful women.  In more recent times, diagnosing them as hysterical was another.  Perhaps if we rewrote history as “hystery” (from the Greek, hyster, meaning “womb”) we would have different stories to tell.  But, from the ancient Mesopotamian Epic of Gilgamesh, in which the goddess of love, Ishtar, unsuccessfully tries to seduce the hero, and the temple prostitute, Shamhat, successfully seduces and thereby defiles the natural man of the wild, Enkidu, to Helen of Troy, whose face and unfaithful figure launched a thousand ships, to the Sirens and Calypso, all the way through to Gatsby’s fair Daisy Fay Buchanan, wanton women have been revered and rebuked by the West’s confused attitude toward female sexuality.

In the West, only Virgins, like Mary, and doting, devoted wives, like Penelope and Henry James’ Isabel Archer, get univocal approval.

(The East, by contrast, is not as uncomfortable with strong, sexual, and wise women.  From Cali to Guan Yin, not only are they revered and worshiped, but even the gender ambiguity of Vishnu is given prominence.)

Even in the contemporary medium of myth-telling – movies – the nymphomaniac is never depicted as anything but pathological and her fate is always a morality tale told from the point of view of the negative exemplar.  Lolita, the touchstone of our modern-day horny heroine, has been made into a movie twice: once in 1962 by Kubrick and once in 1997 by Adrian Lyne.  Based upon the classic book by Nabokov, the films and the book stand in a league of their own.  The ultimate fate of Nabokov’s Lolita (spoiler alert) is morally ambiguous.  Clearly a letdown to the pedophile protagonist, Humbert Humbert, when he finds his life-long love at the end of the book, we are never given any insight into mature Lolita’s feelings of fulfillment in family or lack thereof.  However, it is, perhaps, too hasty to say that there have only been two Lolita films made.  One of the most popular tropes in porn is Lolita.  In this way the myth of the nymph lives on and on.

Lola Down, 21st Century Lolita

Other films, such as Lars von Trier’s Nymphomaniac and Craig Brewer’s Black Snake Moan, put nymphomania front and center.  However, in both, the female protagonist is depicted as pitifully damaged and pathologically in need of redemption.  In the latter film, that redemption takes the form of Christina Ricci, dressed only in her panties and a cutoff t-shirt, being chained to a cast iron heating radiator by a strong black man (Samuel L. Jackson).  As psychologically dubious as this “treatment” might be, it could be said that the film gets to some deep, underlying archetypical images and fantasies buried in the American collective unconscious by playing on race, gender, and slave tropes.

The former film, Nymphomania, as drab and sexually non-stimulating as it is, does get to some diagnostic characteristics.  As Robert Weiss, founder of the Sexual Recovery Institute, has discussed in his “Thoughts on Nymphomaniac: Volume I,” in the Huffington Post, March 20, 2014:

Nymphomaniac: Volume I is “sex addiction accurate.”

  • Joe’s sexual exploits start out (rather early in life) as innocent and fun-seeking, but before long she’s using them less for enjoyment and more for escape. This is typical. Simply put, addicts of all types engage in their addictions not to feel better, but to feel less.
    • Joe views men as objects — a means to sexual gratification — rather than seeing them as equals and potential partners in emotional intimacy. When her lies actually ruin one man’s life, she feels nothing for either him or his wife and kids. Nor does she change her behavior.
    • Joe spends nearly all of her free time pursuing sex. She has no other interests or hobbies.
    • Joe’s sexual activity escalates in both amount and intensity. She has more and more partners as her addiction progresses, and she engages in ever-more risky behaviors.
    • Joe’s response to any sort of emotional crisis is sex. When her father is terminally ill in the hospital, she has sex with an attendant. Later, she experiences sexual arousal at his deathbed.
    • Joe seeks a sense of control and power through sex. For instance, she ‘allows’ or ‘forbids’ certain activities. At one point she speaks to Seligman about ‘privileges’ granted to one of her regular sex partners. Using sex to feel ‘in control’ is common with sex addicts, especially with female sex addicts.
    • Joe appears to have not bonded appropriately with her ‘cold hearted bitch’ of a mother, relying on her father for kindness and nurture. Her childhood flashbacks show that she learned ways to ‘please’ her father, and that doing so was incredibly important. Even though their relationship does not appear to have been sexual or otherwise abusive, it is clear that she learned early on that the way to get love from men is to please them. This type of dysfunctional childhood bonding is common in sex addicts of both genders.
    • By the end of the film, Joe’s entire life (not just her sex life) has become ‘monotonous and pointless.’ She compares her daily movements to those of a caged animal. Everything she does is rote and repetitious, and nothing has any meaning — especially not the sex. At one point she says to a partner, during sex, ‘I can’t feel anything,’ and it is clear that she is talking about both physical numbness and emotional numbness.

Though Weiss points out in the article that female sex addicts are often ascribed “highly shaming labels” such as nympho, slut, tramp, and whore, “that society routinely attaches to women who have a lot of sex, regardless of whether they do so because they enjoy it” or not, he does not in any way discuss the possibility of a positive nymphomaniacal experience in which those labels are coopted into accolades.

The linguist Geoff Nunberg has pointed out that many one-time derogatory and profane words have been coopted and reappropriated by the subjugated, marginalized, and oppressed populations against whom the slurs were originally leveled.  As he says about the term “slut,” “after a Toronto police constable told a crime prevention meeting that women should avoid dressing like sluts if they don’t want to be victimized,” “slut walks” served as a way “to protest the whole culture of slut-shaming.”  He points out that, “it is hard to imagine ‘slut’ being reclaimed the way ‘queer’ was, as a respectable label for academic programs and cultural centers.” (“Slut: The Other Four Letter S-Word,” on Fresh Air, WHYY, NPR, March 13, 2012)

This sort of reevaluation of values is exactly what Lo is literally embodying, pushing psychology today to free itself from the prejudices of patriarchy.  She wears the labels “slut,” “tramp,” “whore,” and yes, “nymphomaniac” proudly (and she often wears little else).  Between us, we use the words “nymphomania” and “slut” as honorifics rather than stigmatizing terms.  Every slur can be reclaimed and used subversively by the oppressed.

There is some evidence that lustful, liberated women are making inroads into the tyranny of normativity.  Thinkers such as Rollo May have proposed a theory of the daimonic, hearkening back to the origin of “demonic” as coming from the Greek “daimon.”  For the Greeks, daimon meant something more akin to a personal deity; a guiding angel, you might say, rather than a guardian angel.

May uses the term “daimonic” to denote a drive that is not univocal in nature and, in one word, is akin to Freud’s dual Eros/Thanatos drives.  As May says of the daimonic, it “has the power to take over the whole person.  Sex and eros, anger and rage, and the craving for power are examples.  The daimonic can be either creative or destructive and is normally both.”  (May, Rollo, Love and the Daimonic, p. 123)  It is worth mentioning here that, before May and Freud, there was a theory of human psychology in Judaism that posited two chambers in the heart: the yetzer tov and the yetzer ra.  The former, “the impulse for good,” and the latter, “the impulse for evil,” worked in tandem and the rabbis believed that neither was “evil” (unlike the proverbial Christian good angel and devil on one’s shoulders), but that the yetzer ra was a force that propelled humans to creativity and sexual union, but it needed to be bent toward the yetzer tov in order to avoid its destructive tendency and be sublimated into socially acceptable expressions and activities that benefited society.  One can easily see the parallels between that and Freud’s Eros/Thanatos theory.  Perhaps “parallel,” is too benign.  Maybe Freud was more plagiarizing from his own tradition.  In line with this theory of complementarity, May has said, “The daimonic (unlike the demonic, which is merely destructive), is as much concerned with creativity as with negative reactions.”  (Diamond, Stephen A., Anger, Madness, and the Daimonic: The Psychological Genesis of Anger, Madness, and the Daimonic, from the Forward by Rollo May, p. xxi)

In the nymphomaniac, the daimonic drive has been described as a propensity toward indiscriminate, compulsive, and often risky sexual behavior.  To the extent that this is dangerous, harmful, and results in negative net results, it is “pathological.”

But that’s not the whole story.

As was mentioned above, the daimonic is also the engine driving creativity and the nymphomaniac can use her prurient powers for good, positive, “healthy” outcomes.  As Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, the pioneer psychologist in the study of “flow” or “optimal experience,” has said, “One manifestation of energy is sexuality. Creative people are paradoxical in this respect also. They seem to have quite a strong dose of eros, or generalized libidinal energy, which some express directly into sexuality.”  (Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly, “The Creative Personality,” Psychology Today, 1996, p. 38) I believe that the reverse of this is true as well: One manifestation of sexuality is creative energy.  Perhaps that is because, as Csikszentmihalyi also says, “a certain spartan celibacy is also a part of [the creative person’s] makeup; continence tends to accompany superior achievement. Without eros, it would be difficult to take life on with vigor; without restraint, the energy could easily dissipate.”  (Ibid.)  Of course, the nymphomaniac is characterized by her lack of “continence,” but that does not mean that her prodigal participation in pleasure isn’t also a creative, artistic, and perhaps even a performative act.  Seeing sex and art as two separate realms is the fundamental error in this analysis.  Sex can be every bit a creative endeavor, full of “flow” and genius as a Picasso or Pollock painting.  The only difference being that the “results” are fleeting, ephemeral, perhaps even “dissipated.”

In my particular case, I would say that writing about Lola Down, my own personal high priestess of porn and beloved nymphomaniac, is also a result of the daimonic and the writing often flows of its own accord in peak moments, like autographia.  According to Csikszentmihalyi, flow is the experience of intense concentration during creative endeavors.  For me, that describes the act of writing.  For Lo, that describes the act of fucking.  For me, the restraint and “continence” is crucial to produce just the right amount of effulgent energy.  But for Lo, her creative power may be more akin to “the woman who identifies with the archetypal role of Muse or femme inspiratrice, providing sexual love to artists.” (Diamond, Stephen A., “What Motivates Sexual Promiscuity?” Psychology Today, 2011)

This is not to say that Lo doesn’t have her own creative endeavors, her own talents, interests, and areas of outstanding achievement.  Far from it!  But she does love being celebrated as muse, not only by me, but by all the artists who have been inspired to draw or paint her, as well as those who have written lovely verse and prose to her and about her.  In addition, she frequently hears from women and men and couples who credit her as an inspiration in the bedroom.  Frequently these accolades are accompanied by “tribute” photos of the men, women, and couples cumming to her inspiring images.

As much as all this worship is proudly welcomed by Lo, it is also of concern how many people – mostly men, but some women – write in to lament that, for them, the nymphomaniac is akin to some sort of mythical figure, a unicorn, a phoenix, or the Holy Grail.  These awestruck admirers cannot believe that one actually exists, in the flesh, as it were.  They had heard rumor of such creatures, but had never met one or received confirmation of their reality.  Lo, like the Holy Grail, is for them a receptacle into which they can pour forth all of their hopes and dreams (and bodily exuberances) and also a cup that runneth over, spilling forth for all who thirst for her baptismal water.

Is this perceived paucity of nymphos due to the stigma attached to the term, repression of sexuality, or a failure to recognize and reclaim the term in a positive light?  I don’t have the answer to these questions, but one thing was clear early on in my relationship with Lo – I was unable to find anyone writing about their nymphomaniacal girlfriend and the great challenges such relationships entail.  So I began writing about it in a public forum in order to inform others and also to find out if others could inform me.  It’s been a fun and enlightening journey and I thank all of you for your words of wisdom, encouragement, and envy.  But most of all, I thank Lo for opening me up to all new vistas of life’s possibilities.

email downloladown@gmail.com for more info

Birthday Sex

After the fiasco that was our double date with Mark and Stephanie to see the play, In the Next Room, remarkably, we got an invitation to join them for dinner to celebrate Mark’s birthday.  He was turning thirty-five and Stephanie had invited over three couples, including us.  That made for eight people, including the man of honor and his lovely wife.

I saw Lola dolling herself up for the party and I said to her, “Look, I don’t want any shenanigans out of you tonight.”

“Can I have some shenanigans in me?”

“No!”

“Daddy,” she said in a sweet voice, putting her hand on my chest and rubbing it, “what are shenanigans?”

“Lo, don’t play dumb with me.  You know exactly what I’m talking about.  Last time they were here, you broadcast your masturbatory movies over the speaker system and I had to make apologies to our guests.  This time we are going to be their guests, so please just let it be an uneventful evening.”

“But that’s so boring, Daddy,” she pouted.

“Boring or not, I’m keeping you on a short leash.”  I immediately regretted my choice of words.

Her ears picked up and her eyes opened wide, “A leash?!  Yes,” she said, putting up her hands like a dog begging for scraps.

“We leave in five minutes,” I said, ending the exchange.

Eighteen and a half minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom wearing a sheer blouse and her cutoff denim shorts – cutoff a bit too short – high heels, and nothing but smooth, sexy skin between the shoes and the denim.

“You’re not actually wearing that, are you?”

She turned up her nose at me and said, “I certainly am!  What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, if you’re dressed as Daisy Duke for Halloween.  But this is a birthday dinner.”

Sheer Top

“Hrmph,” she grunted, defiantly.  “It’s July and it’s hot and I’m hot and I’m wearing this.”

“But your shorts have holes in them,” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, my shorts have two holes in them, and if I’m lucky, I’ll get both of them filled.”

“That’s not what. . .” I gave up, exasperated.

When we arrived, around six, we rang the bell and were let in by Stephanie.  She seemed very glad to see us and led us into the living room where everyone was congregated.  We were the last to arrive.

To my great surprise, she hadn’t invited three couples.  That, apparently, was my assumption.  No.  She had invited four other women and us.  That still made for eight altogether, but it was six women, Mark and me.  I was by far the oldest.  All the women were in their thirties, except Lo, who was in her twenties.  Mark and Stephanie had dropped their kids off with her parents and the only other member of the house was their dog who immediately took an interest in Lo, putting his snout in her crotch and sniffing as soon as we were in the door.  My first thought was, “She’s not wearing panties under those shorts I bet.”

Short Shorts

We introduced ourselves and sat in the loveseat.  Mark, the man of the hour, was seated in a large recliner.  The other women and Stephanie were on the sectional couch.  I immediately thought of an episode of “The Bachelor.”  I felt like I was the T.V. camera viewing all these women vying for Mark’s attention.  Apparently Lo wasn’t the only one with the hots for him.  But why, I wondered, had Stephanie invited them all over?  And why did she invite us?

Then I remembered what Stephanie had said to me the night she and Mark threw the Super Bowl party.  With tears in her eyes, she said that she hadn’t had a sex drive since their second kid was born, but she wanted Mark to be happy.  Was this a set-up for him? – Happy birthday, darling, have your pick of the women.

I could tell, just by looking at Lo and how she practically bared her breasts to Mark every time she reached for an appetizer on the coffee table, that she was mentally making the very same calculations as I.  If that was Stephanie’s game, then Lo was keen on being the winner.

The conversation turned to the heat wave we were experiencing and Lo made some remark about how good the AC felt.  As she said it, I could see her nipples clearly protruding through the thin white material of her blouse.  Yep, she was cooling down alright, just as she was heating things up.

I was curious about these other four women.  Who were they?  I didn’t remember them from the Super Bowl party.

I eventually found out that Mark didn’t know them either.  They were friends of Stephanie’s and new friends at that.  Lo had an in; she was the oldest friend Mark had there, and also the youngest.

Stephanie brought drinks and Lo got more comfortable.  She slipped out of her heels and I noticed that she had gotten a pedicure and manicure.  Her little toes looked like shiny red candy, as did her fingernails.

Even with the AC on, the cold drinks had condensation dripping down the sides, and I suspect that that wasn’t all that was dripping.

Stephanie said she wanted to do presents before dinner and that we had to go outside for Mark’s gift.

We all filed out the front door except Stephanie.  When we were in the front yard, we were all wondering what was going to happen.  Suddenly the garage door opened and, voilà!  Stephanie was standing by a Honda CG 150.  “Ta-da!” she said.

Mark was super excited and he practically ran up to the bike and gave Stephanie a big kiss.

“Let’s go for a ride!” he said to her.  But she declined, using getting dinner ready as an excuse.  “Anyone?” he asked to us.  Of course, Lola immediately volunteered.

Stephanie passed her a helmet and after Mark got on, she hopped on, swinging her right leg over the machine, practically exposing the two holes she had mentioned earlier.  She slid up behind Mark, resting her hands on his broad shoulders.
“I thought you were terrified of motorcycles?” I asked her.

“I am.  But I’ll just have to hold on tight,” she said, reaching around Mark’s waist.

Mark started the machine and revved it up and I saw how excited the sound made Lo.  Off they went, the back of her bum peeking out of the top of her short shorts.

The rest of us went inside.

The other women went into the living room and I offered to help Stephanie with dinner.

“Hey Steph,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” she asked naïvely.

“The women, Lo?”

She put down the bowl of salad and turned to me.  “HH, we had a talk last time you were here.  You remember.”

I nodded my head.

“If he can’t be happy with me, then at least I can help him to be happy with someone else.”

“What do you mean not happy with you?”

“I see what’s going on.  I know that he has needs that I just can’t fulfill.  I see how he looks at Lo.  I’m not dumb.  I want him to be satisfied.”

“Sex is one thing,” I said, “but it’s not everything.”

“Right.”  I couldn’t tell if that was a sarcastic “right” or just apathetic.

“So, he can be happy with you.”

“Well, I want to make sure that he’s happy with me.”

“I’m sure he is,” I said to her, reassuringly.

Meanwhile, on the motorcycle, Lo was holding on to Mark around the waist and, as they rode, her hands slid lower, little-by-little.

They turned down a road that drove down to a secluded lake in the woods.  They hopped off the bike and took off their helmets.

“This is beautiful,” said Lo, looking out at the lake as the pink hues of dusk illumined the horizon.

Mark stood still, looking out over the equally placid lake.  All that could be heard was the gentle rustle of leaves in the trees as the evening breeze filtered through the woods.

“You want to swim?” asked Mark.

“That sounds so good!” replied Lo as she began to slip out of her blouse and short-shorts.

She was naked before Mark even undid a button.  “You weren’t kidding, were you?” asked Lo.

“Uh, um, no,” he said, “I was just watching you,” he said, a little startled, perhaps, at Lo’s eagerness and lack of panties.

“Well, come on then,” she said, helping him to undo his shirt buttons.

“How will we dry off?” he asked.

“On the bike,” she said.  “Come on, it will feel good.”

She removed his shirt and then he undid his belt and slid him out of his jeans.  He slowly took off his boxers to reveal to Lo the object of her fantasies.

“That’s it,” she said, biting her lower lip.

The two of them were naked and they went into the water.

“I just can’t get my hair wet,” said Lo as she led him in.  “Mmmmm, it feels so good.”

They were in – Lo up to her belly button, Mark only up to his thigh.

She turned toward Mark and gave him a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss.

Mark didn’t resist. . . until the end.  He then pushed her away.

“Lo,” he said.

“Fuck me,” she said.

“Lo,” he repeated.

“Fuck me, please.”

He was speechless.  He turned and walked out of the water.  Lo watched his sculpted back and buttocks as he did and then she followed him to the shore.

“Let me blow you,” she said, dropping to her knees.  “Smack my face with your cock,” she said as she grabbed the hefty appendage and proceeded to use it in the way she described.  It remained flaccid in her hands.

“Lo,” he said one more time, “I can’t do this.”

She looked up at him from below, her lips slightly open, ready, hungry, wanting to take it in her mouth.

“Lo,” said Mark, as his gentle hand encouraged Lo to stand up, “I love Stephanie.  I know she’d be happy for me to have you or one of the other women she invited over.”

Lo pouted at the mention of them.

“But I can’t.  I know I have flirted with you and led you on, but I just can’t.  It would be wrong.”

He didn’t have to say any more.  Lo knew that the game was over, though she stole lusty glances at his lengthy instrument.

They walked to the bike and Lo said, “Put the clothes over here.  We’ll air dry.”

They both got on the machine naked.  Mark started it up and they rode through the still evening air by the vacant lake.  Lo couldn’t help but reach around and grab at Mark’s cock on the bike.  He didn’t seem to mind.

After a quick drive, they returned to the clothes, got off the bike and got dressed in silence before Lo said, “Mark, I understand how you feel and I respect it, but it’s such a shame. . .” she trailed off.

Getting back on the bike and driving back to Mark’s birthday party, Lo held on to Mark, tightly, but above the crotch.

When they returned, we had dinner – a BBQ in the backyard.  At one point, Mark and I were alone.  Lo had informed me privately earlier about their exchange by the lake.  I said to Mark, “You’re a lucky man to have a woman like Stephanie.”

“And you’re lucky to have a woman like Lo.”

“Oh, I don’t have her.  She has me.  That’s for sure.”

“Well, then you’re lucky she has you,” he said.

“Yes, I am.”

“I bet she is amazing in bed,” he confided.

I took a sip of my G&T and said, “You have no idea.”

“I’d like to have an idea,” he said.

So I gave him a little birthday gift.  I told him, “When we fuck – and she likes to fuck often – she’ll lie on the bed and tell me how much she needs my cock.  I’ll slide in her wet and wide pussy.  She’ll slide her right hand into her puss until both her hand and my cock are snug in there.  And then, with her other hand free, she’ll look at your pictures.”

“No!” he said.

“I kid you not.”

“Really?!”

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.  If I’m not mistaken, I think Lo got you an extra-special birthday gift.”

After the party was over and Lo and I were at home, I told Lo about my chat with Mark.

“I can’t believe you said those things about me!”

“Why not?  They’re true.”

“Because,” she said with attitude, “when you write, your words are so much more poetic.”

“Sorry, dear, I read better on the page than in person.”

“That’s the difference between you and me,” she said, “I’m always better in the flesh,” she said as she bent over to show me just how short her shorts are.

“Well, he’ll just have to settle for the two-dimensional Lo,” I said as I slapped her ass hard.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, waiting for more punishment.

“You’re not fooling anyone, dear.  I saw your wrapped present for him.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” she said, looking up at me from between her legs.

“Yeah, and it looked just like the latest Match, Cinder & Spark.”

She stood up and said, “Well, you’re wrong.”

“Really?  What was it then?”

“It wasn’t just the latest Match, Cinder & Spark, it was both volumes: IV and V.”

“Feeling generous, were you?”

“When I’m the gift, there’s no point to being stingy.”

“Then why didn’t you give him volumes I-III?”

“I want him to come back for more.  Now fuck me, Daddy.  I’m way overdue for a good pounding.  And if you are good, I’ll tell you the details about my ride with Mark.”